


Come Back to Stay

by furiosity



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 10:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8976370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/furiosity/pseuds/furiosity
Summary: Otabek's feelings about the off-season are complicated, but his feelings about friendship are pretty simple.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SoVeryAverageMe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoVeryAverageMe/gifts).



> Happy holidays! I was browsing sign-ups for possible treats, and your request caught my eye. Not sure if this is fluffy enough (because Otabek is very stoic and, well, Otabek) but I hope you enjoy! ♥
> 
> Quick note about names: Yura (Юра) is a common short form of the Russian name Yuri (Юрий) - it's not a diminutive/affectionate form like "Yuratchka" (Юрочка), just a casual version typically used by peers and elders.

Otabek used to tolerate the off-season, but now that he and Yuri had become friends, he was beginning to dislike it. Besides training, there were so many obligations at home: media appearances, talk shows, ribbon-cutting events. If he just wanted to hang out with his friend, he couldn't.

So when a mix-up resulted in a flight being changed, he texted Yuri right away.

 _I've got a layover in St Petersburg next Wednesday,_ Otabek typed. _Will you have time?_

He was going to put the phone away and check it after dinner, but it _ding_ ed with an SMS sound almost right away.

_I'll make time. Come by at 4. Here's a map ping._

*

Otabek arrived at Yuri's apartment building at three-thirty five. 

After four measured-pace laps around the block, he rang Yuri's doorbell exactly at four.

He heard footsteps, weirdly loud, like someone had already been standing outside the door before the bell rang and was now pretending to walk to it. But that was silly. Yuri was too cool to do something like that.

Yuri opened the door dressed in a yawning-leopard T-shirt and a light jacket -- a clothing choice Otabek used to find incomprehensible in mid-June. Then he'd spent a summer in St Petersburg.

"Hey," Yuri said. "Where do you wanna go?" He thought for a moment and added, "We can stay here, too. If you want. My family's visiting from Moscow, though."

Otabek heard the sound of a television from somewhere inside the apartment. He had come here to spend time with Yuri, not Yuri's family, but he didn't want Yuri to feel forced into anything. "Surprise me," he said. If Yuri just wanted to hang out on the couch and watch TV, that was okay.

Yuri nodded. "There's this new blini place near the bridge. They make the second best egg-and-onion filled ones."

"Who makes the first best?" Otabek asked.

"My gramps," Yuri said with the air of someone explaining that two plus two equals four. "But he's off fishing today."

Otabek knew how much Yuri loved his grandfather, and it surprised him that he hadn't gone fishing, too. "You don't like fishing?"

"I like it fine," Yuri said with a shrug. The tops of his cheeks turned slightly pink. 

Otabek decided not to ask, in case it was a touchy subject. "Blini sound great."

Usually, when Otabek ended up going anywhere with a local, his companions felt compelled to point out any nearby attraction or curiosity they happened to pass. Otabek appreciated the thought, but he could learn about famous places on Wikipedia. Learning about the person he was with, though, that was more difficult. So he was glad when Yuri spent no time at all chattering about landmarks.

"Where are you flying to, anyway?" Yuri asked as they strolled along the river.

"Reykjavik," Otabek said. "It's a Rising Stars on Ice event that I got invited to after the Grand Prix."

"Hmph," Yuri returned. "They never invited _me_."

"That's because you're already a star," Otabek pointed out. "You've owned every competition you've ever entered."

Yuri blushed. "Shut up. I lost to Yuuri Katsuki."

"You didn't lose," Otabek said with a frown. "Sure, it was just by some tenths, but you took the gold."

"I don't mean the Grand Prix. It's a long story." Yuri fell silent.

"So I've been wondering for a while now: why does Viktor Nikiforov call you Yurio?" Otabek asked after they'd walked a little more.

"Because he's an asshole."

Frowning, Otabek tried to parse this, then shook his head. "That doesn't make any sense."

Yuuri scoffed. "It's because of his boyfriend." 

"Yuuri Katsuki? Was he afraid he'd confuse you two?"

"Like hell he was. What part of me looks like pork, I ask you."

"So why didn't he just call you Yura?"

"He's never called me that," Yuri said with an unfamiliar edge to his voice. "Always used my full name, dunno why. Then Yuuri's sister gave me a weird Japanese name, and Viktor started to use that." Yuri half-turned and stabbed Otabek's chest with his index finger. "Because he's an asshole. Like I said."

Now Otabek could follow Yuri's logic, sort of. He nodded. "Yurio. I like it. It sounds manly."

Yuri rolled his eyes, but he was blushing a little. "Maybe I shouldn't hate it, either. Who wants to have the same name as a pig in a human suit?"

"You really don't like him, do you?" It was almost a dishonest question -- _everyone_ knew that despite Yuri's attitude, Russian Yuri and Japanese Yuuri were close. But he wanted to know more about Yuri's side of that story.

"He's not a bad guy," Yuri conceded. "He's not a bad skater, either. He just messed up my plans for Viktor, and that pissed me off. I don't hate him or anything. We're kind of friends, I guess. It just takes me a while to get un-pissed-off at people," he finished with a sigh.

Otabek nodded, understanding perfectly what Yuri meant. He and Yuri were different in this way: it took very little to make Yuri snap, while Otabek could withstand a lot of provocation before he became angry. But it looked like they were both slow to forgive. 

"Why did you get upset at Katsuki, though? It was Viktor who forgot his promise."

"Well, he practically _begged_ Viktor to be his coach when he got drunk at that banquet. Everyone heard him. Then Viktor up and left everything behind. I mean, I guess there was more to it than just coaching. But if Yuuri hadn't done that, Viktor wouldn't have run off like his head was on fire. He would have stayed with us and been my coach, like he promised." 

"You like Viktor that much?"

"Doesn't matter if I like him or not. He was supposed to be _my_ coach," Yuri said, tilting his chin up. Then he cocked his head to one side and gave Otabek an appraising look. "That makes me sound kinda needy, doesn't it?"

 _You're sixteen. You're allowed to be needy,_ Otabek thought. "You are you. Nothing wrong with you," he said.

Yurio punched him in the shoulder. "Come on, let's pick up the pace. I'm hungry."

*

Otabek's plane left the ground, and he stared out of the window, thinking about how Yuri was still down there somewhere, making his way home from the airport.

Ever since he'd started showing better results in competitions, he'd had almost no chance for young-people things. Like going out for a bite to eat or hanging out at a park until dark -- and it was a St Petersburg June, so it got dark real late. Like swapping stories, sharing a laugh, huddling a little closer on a bench as the night turned cooler. Like sitting together in silence, neither one wanting to leave, both knowing that it's time to say goodbye.

So Otabek had said _I'm going to move back to St Petersburg_ instead.


End file.
